Speaking of normal, I have decided that there is no real way in that I can be judged as "normal" by most peoples' standards... I think I'm normal, I think that it doesn't matter if I'm not normal in anyone else's book, but whatever... here I am!
But seriously, who cuts themselves on a plastic trash can through a pair of jeans... and then, not only does it bleed, but it also bruises??? Really bad. It looks really gross... it's a good thing it's winter so I won't feel tempted to wear shorts...
Normality is strange... really strange... so I don't understand how people can hope to judge someone on being normal or not... oh well... it's not my place to decide on normalness... just like I'm certain that Wii Fit doesn't take muscle into consideration when deciding what a person's BMI is... but maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better...
As this stands, I have decided that my dreams are strange at best... so I don't expect anything normal or even remotely normal about these dreams... add my already fairly strange dreams to some of the minds of my friends when they are given free reign over what happens next in my dreams... and you get what I'm about to post on here! Pass the stories are unique in that you don't know where someone will take what you've written... I'm certain my friends feel the same way... when I see what I've done to some of their stories... I only wrote the first part, but somehow my friends were able to get an actual story from a dream I had that did not end...
But here it goes... I'll go ahead and post this... with a disclaimer that I'm not normal, and I don't think many of my friends are either...
The darkness closed in on me. Panting and stiff I ran on. The shadows moved around me and I heard the loud footsteps getting ever nearer. I fell to the ground. My knees were scraped and bloody, but I pulled myself up never the less…
The razor-sharp edges kept hitting my arms and caused me to falter. I reached down to see what it was that hit me… playing cards??? I didn’t realize playing cards were so painful… I already had a collection of fine cuts on my arms and probably under my clothing. Why were they chasing me??? I didn’t have time to think, I was just focusing on getting away. I heard the footsteps trailing off, getting fainter. Finally I had outrun them…
THUNK!!!! I was knocked back so far. A fine white powder covered me body. It tasted kind of sugary… marshmallows?
…or… cocaine? COCAINE!!!? Yum… I thought… yum. I laid on the dark, dark ground, enjoying the colors of the dark and the music of the night and the bleeding of my arm. Then, before I got too close to the emotions bubbling on the edge of my consciousness, dark knife-armed figures surrounded me. I could barely see their outlines. But I knew what they were. CYLON CENTURIONS. “What? You mean, I’m human?” I asked them. Their red eye masks glowed with hidden, intelligent calculations. They remained silent. Then, the emotions started. I laughed like a baby, then a hyena, then a mad man. Then, I started to cry…
Did I start to cry? I want to cry. I’m trying to cry, but nothing is coming out. Maybe if I try harder… no… that never works. At least not for me. Let me try again…
Nope. Still, nothing. I wonder why that is. I’m a human, right? Humans cry. I start laughing uncontrollably again. Laughing? Maybe I’m an insane human. The Cylon Centurions stare at me in disbelief. “What are you laughing about?”
“Hahaha… toe… it’s spelled with an “e”! Hahaha!” It’s really not that funny, but for some reason, it is to me. I wasn’t even thinking about it. “Toe has an o…you know what else has an o? Cylon. Am I a cylon? Who’s a cylon? We're all cylons. That’s it were all cylons. Cylons…were all cylons right?”
The centurions looked at me. “Hello cylon model 13.”
“NO! I’m not a cylon I can’t be a cylon!” I got up and started running towards the nearest cliff. I won’t be convinced I’m a toaster I refuse to be a cylon! I saw the cliff coming up on me I knew what I had to do. I threw myself from the cliff and felt the wind through my hair. I didn’t feel the ground.
I woke up in a tub of a watery like liquid. I was surrounded not by centurions but by the other cylons. 1, 3,4,5,6, and 7 all watching me. Then six said “welcome home 13.”
“13? Wait OW!” The bleeding was overwhelming. “Wait! That white stuff… that’s my blood or its cocaine?”
“Audrey, my love you shouldn’t do cocaine”
“David Boreanaz? Wait, Squall? Are you … a marshmallow?”
“I was,” he said, “but I’m toasted now”
“Wait… you’re a druggie?”… “I’m a druggie?”
“Audrey, of course I am… Why do you think I’m so awesome? And of course you are… you would do anything for me…”
So apparently, my friends had different things on their minds when they took control of my story... originally, there was no drug use or BattleStar references or Final Fantasy characters... but that's what happens when everyone is tired and able to write whatever they want, with nothing to worry about... so I guess I can't complain that much about what was done to mine... when I wrote what I thought of on my friends stories... but yeah, it was an interesting time... and please don't judge by this!
Song Title: Get Your Dream
Artist: TOKIO
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